


Cornucopia

by ayatsujik



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayatsujik/pseuds/ayatsujik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gods ask favours of acquaintances, a decade after the last festival. Spoilers for episodes 48 and 49 (fourth anime season) and vol. 10 of the manga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cornucopia

**I.**

On a midsummer night ten years later, they returned to the mountain. 

*****

It was the same field in the same valley; the home of the people whose ancestors had worshipped them, though its residents were growing progressively greyer, their numbers diminishing. But here the late afternoon sun still cast its deep gold light, and the air still carried the smell of grass, of ripening fruit.

Their attendants were still present, too, a group of dark-hooded figures and another of light-capped ones. But there was no audience, this time. No crowd of spirits had gathered to watch, to take bets, to wait with bated breath for the announcement of a contest, and its winner. The surrounding hush was broken only by the reedy whine of cicadas and the wind whispering through the trees.

The only one present, aside from them, was the ancient spirit that assumed the form of an old human man with a beard. A low-ranking deity, to be exact. He bowed, hovering before them and their retinues. The edges of the cloud that bore him aloft left misty trails in the air.

/My lords,/ he said. /Shall we begin, then?/

/What will this contest be?/ The one who asked was draped in shadows, tall and imposing. He made a compelling sight, wearing a robe the shade of a moonless night; draped atop his head was the pale fur of snow-fox pelts, their tails extending down his back. A dark, horned mask with bone-white markings concealed his face, recalling a ram; two star-shaped flowers at both sides made contrasting bursts of colour.

/One wonders, indeed./ This was the other, a more delicate figure than his dark counterpart. He stood radiant in a robe the hue of a lavender field in bloom and a headdress of pale pink flowers, whose long, slender stamens trailed out from under them like ribbons. His face was covered by a white mask that had two dark spots and a crown of antlers, reminiscent of a stag, and adorned on each side with two crimson blossoms.

The old deity chuckled.

/Since the last time it was such a spectacular event, my lords, I thought...another race. To the tree that holds the shrine the winner formerly inhabited. The first one to reach may call it home, if he so wishes./

/A race to that shrine,/ the moon-of-eclipse mused. He turned to his companion. /What do you say?/

/I think well of it,/ the moon-of-plenitude replied. /I would that we used some means of transport, though. A race is a severe drain on energy./

The white-capped and black-hooded retinues stirred, piping up. /Lord, Lord, we have them prepared, the vehicles you need, wait just a moment -/

Two blinding flashes, and they appeared in front of the moon-gods: two great creatures with pointed muzzles and flowing tails, rearing their heads. One white, its features a fierce, graceful mixture of lupine and feline; the other black, its form and face marked with more of the canine, a touch of the reptilian.

/I have seen these beasts before,/ said the old deity. /Were they not at the last gathering?/

/Indeed,/ the moon-of-eclipse replied. /The dark one, we both hunted./ As if hearing a name it did not have, the beast shook its head and growled; its mouth gaped open to let a long, crimson tongue extend.

/Ah./ The old deity laughed again. /Now I remember. And this other one defied you./

/...Defied me?/

/Surely you remember,/ the moon-of-plenitude said gently. /It was defending this human child from your ire. For him it bared its fangs at you; risked your curse./

The white beast, with crimson markings around its eyes and forehead, regarded the dark god with cool, searching eyes. It rumbled deep in its throat before turning away, lowering its head to the figure that glowed with colour. The moon-of-plenitude reached up, caressing its gleaming fur, and the rumbling softened, became closer to a purr.

/I feared the human and this beast had done you harm,/ the moon-of-eclipse said, after a pause. /I would never hurt anything that sought to shield you./

His radiant counterpart lifted his mask, so that their underlings could see him smile, but said nothing.

The old deity raised his hand. /Shall we begin, my lords?/

*****

The moon-of-eclipse, on the dark beast, and the moon-of-plenitude, on the light one, raced each other. They sped towards the ancient tree that guarded the small shrine, a miniature house whose eaves were faded and worn with age and neglect.

The beasts they sat astride zigzagged across each other's paths. It was a race, but the route they were following was winding and indirect; the creatures soared up, up; leaned left or right; occasionally called to each other in growls. The cliffs of the surrounding mountains shone in the orange and crimson-toned glow that suffused the horizon. Below them, their black- and white-clad retinues appeared as streaks of lights, struggling to keep up with the distracting motions of the creatures their masters were riding. Their garments fluttered and trailed in the wind, forming waves of shadows and brightness.

They were buffeted by a particularly strong breeze at one point, and the moon-of-plenitude caught his breath, plunged into a torrent of sensations - melancholy, nostalgia, a bittersweet regret for days and lives that no longer were. Gratitude, for those lives which had sustained a ritual that had bound him and his dark companion to a place they cherished, even if the laws of their existence had barred them from being there at the same time. 

Those things were gone; those things would always exist in them. And they were free, now.

He laughed, a ripple of music. Of pure, ringing joy. A little ahead of him, he saw the moon-of-eclipse's head turn in acknowledgement, and knew that he, too, understood. Of course he did; there was no one else in the world capable of understanding. 

The sun was almost set. As if responding to some invisible sign, both the beasts plunged down, down, heading for the green expanse of forest beneath.

*****

They landed before a cedar tree - ancient and enormous, whose roots cradled the shrine one of them had called home for centuries - in two crashing, blinding heaps of spirit-creatures and discombobulated followers. It was impossible to say who had won, from the perspective of the riders, and their retinues had begun a spirited argument over the result that was escalating into a flurry of insults, accompanied by spear-waving and hat-shaking. The old deity was nowhere in sight.

/Our referee appears to have discarded the rest of his duties,/ the moon-of-eclipse remarked, dismounting. /I rather thought he might./

/His agreeing to preside over the beginnning of this event was already more compliance than I had expected,/ the moon-of-plenitude said, doing the same. /It matters not, even if one rather wishes to have a clear outcome./

The moon-of-eclipse raised his head. /Let us decide this face-to-face./

/How?/

The moon-of-eclipse turned to the crowd of bickering followers, silencing them with a stern command. /Fetch us staffs from those trees./

The moon-of-plenitude looked at him, as two attendants scampered into the woods, crashing through undergrowth. /...Fuzuki?/

/Spar with me, Houzuki,/ the moon-of-eclipse said, his voice a shadowy, velvety invitation. /As the people here once did, on our behalf./

After a short while, the runners returned with the requested objects, whittled down from branches. The moon-of-plenitude grasped one; regarded the grain of the wood, how it felt rough and cool in his grip.

He looked up to see his dark companion watching him, already holding out his staff in a fighting stance.

/Very well, then./

*****

Their attendants would later sigh over what a spell-binding sight it had been to watch their two masters wielding their weapons. They were evenly matched; it was hard to make out who had an advantage, if any. Pink blossoms and white foxtails flew around them as they advanced, retreated, stepped sideways. The sinuous grace of their movements and the beauty of their forms transformed the event into a performance, rather than a fight; a dance on a carpet of summer-green grass, lit by the glow of a celestial body that was revealed in all its fullness, poised at its zenith in a sky of deep, dark blue. 

Suddenly the moon-of-plenitude wavered, appearing to lose his balance. The moon-of-eclipse lunged foward, staff at the ready.

The moon-of-plenitude parried, but the force of the other's blow was too strong. His staff cracked, and he fell back - but as he did, he thrust an arm out to grab his dark partner's robes, while his free hand grabbed the remaining staff and yanked it out of his grip. They ended up collapsing together in a heap on the fragrant grass.

The moon-of-eclipse had twisted as he fell, to support his fair companion's back. His face peered out underneath the black mask; the impact of hitting the ground had dislodged it. He reached up, but instead of replacing the mask, lifted it off. 

The guise of a human emerged: a handsome man in his early thirties, with fawn-coloured hair and carnelian eyes. As if startled by the loss of the mask's cover, a small, dark lizard flickered up his throat, crossing his cheek and disappearing behind his ear.

The man sat up, helping his companion do the same, and then reached out. The white-masked figure kept very still as the man's long, graceful hands removed his covering.

Golden-brown eyes, shaded by long lashes, gazed up at him from a pale face that appeared luminous in the moonlight; a study in unconscious beauty.

*Something* happened, then. There was a palpable shift in the air, a force exerted on those present. The dark-clad figure lowered his hand, satisfied, as the attendants began filing away into the shadows of the forest, while the two beasts, which until then had been bristling, fell silent. Their eyes closed and their limbs folded as they sank down in slumber.

/Fuzuki,/ the moon-of-plenitude murmured.

As if summoned, the other leaned in, closing the space between them. Black spilled over lavender as the body inhabited by the moon-of-plenitude was lowered to the ground again. The man who carried the moon-of-eclipse in him caressed the face of his other, his inverse image. Moved his hands, undoing the belt that held them together. Parted the folds of bright cloth, seeking what lay beneath. Covered the other's mouth with his own.

His kisses were urgent, burning trails of fire into the nerves of the one who responded to the name of Houzuki. The body that held the moon-of-plenitude trembled, but not out of fear. His slender arms, slipping out from the sleeves that covered them, wound about the taller man's back, whose fingers and lips and teeth and tongue continued to busy themselves with exploring the expanse of his skin, rough and tender all at once. He moaned into the warmth of the other's body; tugged at the dark robes that fell over him to also be removed. Their wearer shrugged them off obligingly, and continued to administer lips and tongue and teeth to his neck, his belly, the heat between his legs; all the parts of his form that were exquisitely sensitive.

He dug his fingers into the warm flesh under them, waiting to be entered; wanting to be full of the one he had always desired, the one he knew desired him in return.

/Fuzuki,/ he heard himself cry, voice hoarse with pleasure. /Fuzuki./ Over and over again, as if it was a mantra that would bring heaven closer. 

Around them, the forest seemed to thrum with anticipation. The cicadas continued to shrill; the air was warm and thick with a scent that recalled peonies, the fragrance of flowers like those of Houzuki's headdress. 

The man-who-was-Fuzuki _thrust_ into him, a low, fierce sound leaving his throat. Again, again, and again.

Again.

He found release against the other body pressed taut to his own, dimly aware of his lover's hands under the ecstatic arch of his spine.

**II.**

_/It is not something we ask lightly, human child,/ the god said, softly, entreatingly. /But if you and your loved ones agree to assist us with this request, you will have our blessings for the rest of your lives./_

_"I'm not sure I understand," he said hesitantly. "Haven't the two of you been together since the last time we all met? You weren't separated again, were you?"_

_/No,/ the god replied. /It is a selfish thing we ask, human child, one on which nothing hinges except our desire to experience again, just one more time, the joy of uniting through human bodies./_

_"Are human bodies more -" he paused. "- well, better for, uh, uniting?"_

_/In the past we sometimes borrowed the forms of the villagers who enacted the contest for the same purpose, so we have ample experience of how the confines of human flesh enable a connection, a level of intimacy that exceeds what is possible in the spirit realm,/ the god said, a smile in his voice. /But we did not meld with the humans who performed that ritual, unless they attracted each other in a certain way./_

_/Surely you understand what I speak of, since you too are with another in that manner. Is that man not yours, and does he not claim you for his own?/_

_He coughed in lieu of an answer; the blush he had attempted to hold back dispensed with discretion, spreading over his cheeks with abandon._

_/It is true that my other half and I have journeyed together for the last ten years. Yet those ten years are a tiny fraction of the centuries we spent apart from each other. Because we had to. It was my duty to protect that land in the valley, the people and creatures within it; to assist in replenishing the energy of the soil, enriching its capacity to produce crops, trees, flowers. Helping it to sustain life. He could not be with me on my watch, while I still had the power to do that./_

_He closed his eyes, letting the wistfulness, the yearning exuded by the radiant figure wash over him. Finally he nodded._

_"Yes," he said quietly. "If the others don't agree...I'll do my best to talk them into it."_

_/Your compassionate heart is a beautiful one./ The god touched his face, the sensation like a flower brushing his skin. /Thank you, human child./_

*****

_/We give our word that no harm will be done to you, the boy, or the beast./ the shadowy figure told him. /We have no intention of forcing you to do this./_

_"It must be extremely rare for gods to ask humans for help," he remarked. "And for a request so..._ intriguing _, no less."_

_/You speak truly, human child,/ the dark god replied, his tone dry. /What is your decision, then?/_

_"It depends on what the others want," he said carefully. "Have they been asked yet?"_

_/I hear from my partner that the boy has said yes, and that he has also persuaded the beast to consent. Should you refuse, I gather the boy will attempt to bring you over to our side as well./_

_He heaved a long-suffering sigh._

_/You do not seem surprised to hear he agreed,/ the god observed._

_"I think I would be more surprised if he hadn't," he said wryly. "I suppose I don't really have a choice then, do I?"_

_/I do not think our request will cause you any discomfort, human child. Quite the opposite, in fact./_

_"In that case," he said, half-smiling. "Anyway, I've long since come to accept that I'm terrible at saying no to him."_

**III.**

"Are you all right?" Natori asked gently.

Natsume nodded, but his limbs were tingling, and he felt lightheaded. It was bizarre how spirit possession sent him into a state where he had no control over his body, but floated somewhere inside his own head observing everything that happened: a split, dream-like consciousness. Natori sounded the same, but even he seemed a little pale, a little hesitant. Somehow he found that reassuring. It must have been strange for him, too. Certainly Natsume could think of few experiences, in all his encounters with possessions to date - willingly undertaken or otherwise - that matched the intensity of this one.

(He wondered if any gods had made requests in a similar vein of Reiko, and decided that he didn't really want to know.)

The stars were still out, and the sky remained dark. He couldn't tell what time it was, but had the vague sense of a few hours having passed since their landing. The two of them were resting at the foot of the giant cedar whose roots held Houzuki's old shrine.

He shifted in Natori's arms, adjusting the angle at which his head was nestled into a shoulder covered by the brown cotton of a familiar jacket, instead of a black velvet-like robe. 

"They took their clothes with them when they departed," Natori observed, as if having heard that thought. "Thankfully they left us ours."

Natsume chuckled. "I wouldn't want to go back to Touko-san and Shigeru-san naked or in that crazy getup, so it's just as well." He paused, thoughtful.

"But it ended in a draw, after all - I wonder what that means."

"It was just a show, in all likelihood," Natori replied quietly. "We helped them end the need for contests ten years ago, after all."

"Then why did they want so badly to re-enact a ritual that no longer has any power?"

Natori propped an elbow on one knee and rested his chin on his hand. "I have a theory. Want to guess?"

"Just tell me already," Natsume sighed. 

"Ten years haven't made you any more patient, have they?" The corners of Natori's eyes crinkled with amusement as he leaned forward. Natsume's mouth was covered by another one, warm and familiar.

"What was that for?" he asked, after Natori pulled away, but even he could hear the lack of annoyance in his own voice.

"Because I could," Natori said, breezily ignoring the Look that Natsume shot him.

"I think rituals remain important even after they lose their substance, " he continued. "The repeated performance of actions with a clear purpose imbues the acts themselves with meaning. Even if no one's watching, even if the actors have no witnesses. Besides, think of what those contests allowed them to do."

Natsume pondered this briefly, and then blinked. " _Oh_ ," he said. "They got to see each other then, because they couldn't meet while Houzuki was enshrined here. A little like Orihime and Hikoboshi*, except they could only meet once every ten years, not every year. And then they had to fight..."

"Exactly," Natori shot him a smile, ruffling his hair. "But you know, I don't think their fights were ever real. The act of competing, the throwing of this old festival probably mattered because it was a way for the people who lived here, long ago, to be involved with the spirit realm. To support the gods who needed them as much as they needed the gods. After all, their cheering for Houzuki to win against Fuzuki meant they would worship them." He fell silent for a moment, organising his thoughts further.

"But I doubt that Fuzuki ever really intended to beat Houzuki. If you think of them as a dyad of light and dark, positive and negative, like the taikyokuzu*, then it follows that they exist in a state of mutual dependance. A moon of plenty that exists only because its inverse does, and vice versa, while both needed the beliefs of humans..."

Natsume let his mind wander as he listened to the steady, muffled beat of Natori's heart, the low thrum of his voice as it embarked on a detour into esoteric cosmologies and Japanese folk religion.

What Natori said made sense - but it felt incomplete, somehow. Something else still needed to be in the story. He thought then of the yearning that had coloured Houzuki's voice when he had made his request, describing the ties that bound him to his mirror image, and the duties that kept them apart. Recalled scenes from Houzuki's memories: verdant expanses of water-flooded paddies; tidy rows of fat squashes; branches laden with fruit and flowers. The laughter and songs of village communities in years of plenty; the smiles that accompanied the bounty of harvests. The god's own blessings over all new lives brought into his territory, whether humans, animals, plants, insects, or the lesser spirits that drifted into the valley to live amongst them.

Something had to be given up in order for something to be made; nothing came to fruition without work, without sacrifice. But sacrifices could be willingly offered.

He looked up at the sky, where that other lunar body still shone. 

(A moon split to pour its positive force into creation; a moon finally reunited with its other half.)

"Houzuki loved this place," Natsume murmured. "Fuzuki would have wanted to protect it too."

Natori, in the middle of a sentence about harvest festivals, stopped. Then he laughed, a touch ruefully.

"I never get the last word, do I?"

"But I never said I disagreed with you, Shuuichi-san," Natsume replied, smiling innocently up at him.

Natori quirked a brow in his direction, and then Natsume suddenly felt his arms being grabbed; his body being pulled up so that he was on Natori's lap instead of leaning against his side, his back pressed to Natori's chest.

"Well, I'm going to partially disagree with you," Natori breathed into his ear. "In case you didn't realise, you were _bewitching_ in what you call 'that crazy getup'." Teeth nipped Natsume's earlobe, sending a sweet shiver down his spine. "I thought so last time, too. It's nice being in a position to do something about what I think, ten years later." The arms around his waist tightened. 

"Shall we unite again, Takashi? In honour of the gods?"

Natsume wondered why, after all this time, having this ridiculous person say ridiculous things to him still managed to throw a wrench into his logical faculties. It was hard to wonder, though, when long, warm fingers had worked their way under his shirt, and -

"NYARGH," an extremely peevish and familiar voice growled, making them both freeze. A generously-sized white ball relentlessly padded out of the brush towards them, hopping onto Natsume's head and squinting death at Natori's face.

"Stop fooling around, you horny brats, and let's go home before I starve and eat the two of you. This world's come to a sorry pass if even deities are flouncing about pretending they're beasts in heat, not to mention the stupid humans who help them do idiotic things like this, _hrrrumph_ -" 

Natsume heaved a sigh. Natori made a sound of deep and abiding frustration. Madara, back in his lucky-cat form, scowled at both of them.

"Mrrrgh, don't forget you promised me TWO sashimi platters for this, Natsume!"

"Cheer up, Shuuichi-san," Natsume comforted, moving Nyanko-sensei to his lap for a few contrite pats. "At least the gods left Hiiragi out of this."

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. For my honey E., again. And for all the amazing fans who drew all the amazing Fuzuki/Houzuki art on Pixiv, as well as the equally amazing cosplayers whose photos made my week. Um, even with corny descriptions of landscape and fight scenes and potentially confusing transitions, I hope you enjoy reading this even a little as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> 2\. We have to assume Natsume at 25 and Natori at 33 remain pretty and sparkly, of course. Unfortunately I couldn't think of a way to have Hiiragi play a role in this one, too, except for squeezing her in at the end.
> 
> 3\. In case anyone missed the references...
> 
> * Orihime and Hikoboshi: the Weaving Maiden and Cowherd deities, the two star-crossed lovers who can meet only once a year on Tanabata, the seventh day of the seventh lunar month. 
> 
> * Taikyokuzu: the circular diagram of yin and yang forces which shows them in a perpetual cycle; often associated with the Chinese _Book of Changes_ (I Ching) and Taoism.


End file.
